RPlog:Conversations Act4
'' Conclusion '' While it's not that the gesture itself is unwelcome, it's simply that Lynae is not a touchie feelie sort of person, least of all when self control hinges on little things. Like touch. Or phrasing. Tone of voice. Lynae is concentrating for all she's worth on deep calm breaths, her gaze shifting steadily from person to person while working on getting her heart rate under control, "Dr Finian," she says in a voice that is very carefully controlled, and for the first time since there is no seething anger or fury in her voice, expression or anything when she says it, nor in the glance that she aims in his direction. Her gaze shifts right on past Tyler again and back up towards Johanna, "I don't do it on purpose," she says with a breath of laughter, "and getting blood out of good flooring is so difficult. Sometimes you just have to rip it up and start all over." Again her gaze sweeps around the room before alighting on the new arrival and straightening ever so slightly in her chair in the process. Another measure of calm, wrapping her composure around herself like a cloak, another deep breath, falling silent as Malign issues his statement, his warning before lighting up and making for the door. While she hears the words that pass between Malign and the President she doesn't see the exchange, having propped one elbow on the table and placed her forehead firmly in the palm of one hand. "They should go into business together," she says quietly, and with a good deal of asperity as the alarm beeps again and Lynae fumbles with the device long enough to mute the bloody thing and continues, "Rall and Malign, two part horror show bringing vindictiveness and vengeance to the galaxy, one heart stopping show at a time." Yeah, that's humor. Brandis keeps his own voice neutral, for his feelings concerning Lynae are less than conciliatory. However, if he were to hold onto anger, to hate...she would have already defeated him, and far too easily. So it is with the same generosity with which he healed her broken arm, despite the fact that she had only too recently taken part in his torture, that he comes to her now to assess the damage more fully in person. "I see, Dr. Caiton, that a dose of your own medicine seems to have come rather close to ending your....career." it's a small dig, really, but enough for her to understand that he takes no real pleasure in this meeting. And very likely never will be truly comfortable keeping her company. "I shall endeavor not to begin anything that would further tire you, Johanna. The last time I was here, Snarl trashed the place." "The irony has not escaped me, Dr Finian," Lynae replies in a voice heavy with dry humor. She rubs at her temples with her fingertips, "I didn't think you would come in person," she says next, "I expected that if you replied it would be via holo message, though truth be told I'm also surprised it even reached you without there being a cadre of ISB agents rappelling into the room about five seconds later," she mumbles. Brandis keeps his own voice neutral, for his feelings concerning Lynae are less than conciliatory. However, if he were to hold onto anger, to hate...she would have already defeated him, and far too easily. So it is with the same generosity with which he healed her broken arm, despite the fact that she had only too recently taken part in his torture, that he comes to her now to assess the damage more fully in person. "I see, Dr. Caiton, that a dose of your own medicine seems to have come rather close to ending your....career." it's a small dig, really, but enough for her to understand that he takes no real pleasure in this meeting. And very likely never will be truly comfortable keeping her company. "I shall endeavor not to begin anything that would further tire you, Johanna. The last time I was here, Snarl trashed the place." "The irony has not escaped me, Dr Finian," Lynae replies in a voice heavy with dry humor. She rubs at her temples with her fingertips, "I didn't think you would come in person," she says next, "I expected that if you replied it would be via holo message, though truth be told I'm also surprised it even reached you without there being a cadre of ISB agents rappelling into the room about five seconds later," she mumbles. Brandis chuckles softly, "ISB tends to overlook messages for me. I think they've forgotten that I'm minor nobility on Corellia, little good it does me." There is a great deal of dry irony in his own voice as he settles into a seat without really asking for permission. She asked him here, she can bear his presence with good grace or not, as the situation demands. "I wouldn't say that the fact that the message being for you would have been so significant, Dr Finian, but that it would've carried my name on it," Lynae says quietly, eyes intently observing Brandis as she speaks. Once he settles she straightens in her chair, running one hand down her face and attempting to compose herself in some manner as she does so. Her right hand moves to curl her left hand again, tucking her hand beneath the table and meeting his eyes with hers. "I suppose you'd have to ask yourself who they'd be more interested in catching, Dr. Caiton. You...or me?" Brandis has no real illusions about which of them might be held more valuable in the eyes of the Empire at this point. It would seem that she has outlived her usefulness to them, if the ticking death trap in her chest can be held as any indication. "You asked for my help, and I've come to determine if I should give it. Show me that you've changed enough to merit the assistance of a Jedi, when you swore you'd be the death of me when last we spoke." Lynae tilts to the side slightly, blue eyes narrowing a bit as she contemplates his question and her answer before speaking it aloud. "Without contest: you. For I am nothing more than a.. regretful annoyance that can be executed at whim. You, on the other hand, remain one of the Great Enemies of the Galactic Empire." This last bit, of course, is said with such irony it almost leaps out of the air and gallivants around the room under it's own power. Brandis shakes his head, "You're dodging the request, Lynae. You asked for my help, and I don't keep saying that just to rub your nose in it. It's very simple that letting you die would relieve a great many of my worries. I wouldn't have to wonder how many more innocents would die at your hand in my name. I sincerely doubt that your opinion of me has altered all that greatly, just because your life is on the line." if he is skeptical, he has every right to be. "I healed your arm when you came so very close to breaking me because I was sick inside with how much I hated you. So I turned it into something good, and it still blew up in my face. You can only see me as an enemy of your ideal. You refuse to see what /I/ represent, not as a Jedi, but as an individual." Lynae sits quietly for one of those long moments where one if faced with the option to stare back or start finding something else to stare at. She does though, she studies Brandis with intensity in her gaze that she has not shown previously in their albeit short conversation. "What you're really asking me is what will I do with my life if you heal me and I'm free to do what I want, again. You're asking me if I will then, or once again, employ my talents to kill and maim and bathe in the blood and sounds of pain of the victims to which I would be.. tasked. You're asking if I, without the will of the Empire behind me, will continue to do these things. To break, to injure, to harm and to kill. Perhaps it would surprise you to know that I have never taken up a weapon in hand to hand combat and injured another. My job was never that, to fight hand to hand on the line. I was a physician, a scientist. I was tasked to other things," her voice is so carefully blandly empty that it matches the intensity of her gaze. "You are the embodiment of everything that I was taught was the enemy of the Empire. Every living hour that you move around and exist, you embody that which we are supposed to fight against." She rubs at her left arm absently while speaking, her gaze never wavering. "I do not change my spots, so to speak, on a whim. Nor do I claim that I am suddenly embracing a life of sweetness and light, throwing myself at your mercy and sobbing about the wrongs that I have done. Yes," she says in a low but hard tone of voice, "I did things that were wrong. I don't need to list them, for I am certain you are aware of my career record as I am of yours. But it is not my leaving of the Empire that would still my hand. I hold those oaths in abeyance, Dr Finian. For I have made a promise that binds me more than the oath I was forced to swear in the end. And that one I will hold too, for no one else - nothing else - has the right to ask it of me. I gave my word that I would not harm anyone while in the shelter of the Caspain people. I willingly gave that oath, and I will keep it. " Brandis' mouth curves slightly as he takes a turn at tilting his head, "Only so long as you are within the shelter of the Caspian people, you say? And is this an indication that you'll live the rest of your life here? Because the moment you move from the planet, you're no longer bound by the terms of that oath. Am I correct?" "I had a feeling you would interpret my statement that way," Lynae replies with a quiet almost smile of her own. "But the answer to that question is No. For the moment, being with these people reminds me that there is another way to live. For the moment, being among them makes me - I believe - to be a better person. Will I need to remain on this planet for the rest of my life in order to rein in my Bad Habits? No. My promise is my promise, my word, that I will keep no matter where I travel. There is nothing here that requires such actions of me. And given leave to make my own decisions, I have not been slaughtering and wading in blood." Brandis shrugs in a Gallic manner, "Forgive me for choosing to interpret it in the most practical way possible. I've healed you before, and your reward for such was torturing my mate. Forgive me for feeling that your enmity is still a long way from being gone. The only reason you've begged for my help at all is because you know I can do the job you need done." he holds up his hand to keep her from responding immediately, and there comes to his face a far-off look, or rather an unfocused one as he searches her life essence with a sight that has nothing to do with the eyes. "You've taken a great deal of damage from this device, already. Soon, you'll begin having heart attacks without any assistance." "I know," Lynae says calmly. "I can feel the twinges already. Stiffening of my left arm. The muscle cramps in my hand. Light headedness, if I move to fast I get dizzy and see black spots in my vision," Lynae says simply. "If it's not removed, I'll simply die. The further irony is that if I'd refuse to swear loyalty again then I would already be dead and we wouldn't be having this conversation. But I wanted to live," she says in that same quiet, calm voice. "I won't ask you to try to see things from my perspective. I cannot explain it in any way that makes sense when it's spoken aloud. Nor any sense if you're not inside my head. Do I hate you? I don't know. Right now I don't feel anything for you or towards you, Dr Finian. No hatred, no.. just nothing. I feel nothing, and have operated for so long in this nothing this gray enveloping nothing ness that is the only way I know how to operate that I can't honestly tell you that I've surrendered my feelings for you because frankly I don't feel anything. It's the way I keep my sanity, such as it is. " Brandis is silent, his head bowed as he seems to study the grain of the wood of the faux tabletop between them. There is so much that he has to weigh, the good of the many, or the good of the one. "Would you swear an oath to me, if I agree to this? Not to reverse everything you've believed in...I don't expect the impossible...." he pauses and licks his lips, wetting them after long moments of quiet breathing, deep contemplation. "If ever I have need of a favor from you, swear that it will be mine for the asking. Do that, and I will help you all I can. I can help you even now...give you more time if you decide my price is too high." he flicks his eyes around the bar, not the most conducive atmosphere for what he proposes to do. "The decision remains yours." "I swear it," Lynae says quietly. "For you alone would not ask of me something that would violate the oaths that I have already sworn. And I would have done anything, anything at all that you asked, for even one more month," she continues in a low and fervent tone of voice. The fervent tone being jut the barest hint of emotion that for her speaks volumes. Brandis holds out his hand, palm up, toward the female physician. "Give me your hand, Lynae." His tone is neither forceful, nor demanding. He only asks that she cooperate, so that he can do his bid to assist her in this time of need. He is still of two minds. Once before he offered his aid where it was not wanted, nor asked for. When she'd broken her arm fighting against her captors. Now she is all but begging, yet he can still not be assured she won't resume her ways once the deed is done. And yet...something within him is telling him to trust his gut on this one. Her oath seems sincere enough, he'd know it immediately if she were lying. "Give me your hand, that I may begin to give you a life of your own choosing." Lynae is not, by any means, a touchie feelie person. She is the least likely person in any given room of a sampling of average people to reach out and touch someone else - anyone else - for any reason. Even as a physician she keeps her physical interaction to the minimum level required to do the job. Not because she's shy, but because it is her preference. Exhaling quietly, Lynae studies Brandis without forming a reply before she lifts her left hand from where she'd concealed it beneath the table and extends her hand forward to place it in his right. Brandis could probably do what he's about to do without the benefit of touching her, but his sight within the Force sharpens considerably as soon as she makes contact with his hand. He wouldn't have offered her his left anyway, as the mechanical nature of it would have interfered with the connection he's attempting to establish. His breathing slows a great deal as he drops into a trance, his awareness and understanding of the damage to her heart increased by his knowledge of medicine and the human body. Sitting still and quiet, not Lynae's strong suits. Sitting still, and quiet, with her hand resting in Brandis's is also not something she's going to be particularly good at. But she does it mainly by alternately staring at him or down at the table top itself. '' Brandis rolls a 14 for his MEDICAL skill. Brandis boosts this roll with a Character Point for 8, for a total of 22. An Excellent roll! '' '' Brandis rolls a 21 for his MEDICAL skill. Brandis boosts this roll with a Character Point for 6, for a total of 27. An Excellent roll!'' '' Brandis rolls a 18 for his ALTER skill. Brandis boosts this roll with a Character Point for 8, for a total of 26. An Excellent roll! '' It hurts at first. There can be no healing without some pain, no matter how minor. It's actually a forcible rearrangement of the damaged tissues as the young Jedi works at restoring them to what he knows they should be, as opposed to what they've been reduced to by repeated abuse. His task is threefold, and that's what makes it all the harder. He must heal the damage already done. He must keep Lynae's pulse from going far too quickly and thus stimulating another 'attack', and he must do it all while shutting out the noise and hubbub of a busy bar. It should be no wonder that sweat beads quickly on his brow and upper lip as he wields a power that most cannot begin to comprehend. If she is aware at all, she'll notice that her ability to feel is dampened by an influence outside herself, a security blanket flicked over her shoulders, invisible, but the faintest bit restrictive. It's an odd sort of lethargy, and it feels alien to her, if she probes it too deeply, or is even capable of noticing. His breathing shallows out, and it would appear that he's not even breathing, so deeply is he meditating on the problem at hand. Lynae shivers once before her breath escapes her in a soft exhale, eyes half closing. She twitches once, then again, her left hand curling, small muscle twitches jumping over her left eye, making her shoulders move, her breath staying entirely calm all the while. She doesn't pull away, simply held in place in a calm state that she can't think past. Healing another comes far easier to Brandis than healing himself. His own pain causes distractions that are difficult to get around. But even so, it's never a task he undertakes lightly. More long moments pass as he reconstructs a damaged heart to the point where it seems as though she's never had the trauma, though her memories will speak otherwise. She'll have to live with those, since Brandis has learned through hard experience that his forte is not mucking about in other people's minds. Finally, he draws his hand away, his palm damp with the sweat his hard work brought about. "I know it is difficult," he breathes finally, panting slightly from his exertions, "But you must remain calm for the next little while. Keep yourself in seclusion if you must, to avoid drama that will spike your pulse. Arrange for a medical suite in the hospital of your choosing. Arrange for an operating room that can be put at my disposal, and I will see what can be done about getting that device out of your chest. If...if it all comes to pass, you will leave the hospital without even a physical scar to remind you. That is the best I can offer." Lynae is pale, rather even more pale that is, than before she placed her hand in his and shaking ever so slightly. No stranger to pain, as it has been a method used to instruct her before, she made no sound during the time elapsed and if asked she could not even begin to guess how long they say there, hand in hand. She blinks several times before she manages a reply, "I will make the arrangements. If you don't object, I even have another physician who would be of help, Dr Xar'on Tanner," she adds before she rubs her left hand again with her right hand. "I.. thank you," she says softly, her eyes intense, "May I offer you any .. do You have somewhere that you are staying? I can see to it that you're given very good and reliable accommodations." Brandis shakes his head, his lips pressed together, "I hope you do not take exception to my lack of trust, but I prefer to bunk aboard my ship. That way, if the worst should come to pass, and I must leave in a hurry, I don't have to make my way to the spaceport to make my getaway, as it were." the last is said with a hint of humor, as he honestly hopes she won't be offended by his refusal. "Not at all, and were I in your place I would do the same. The only thing I would've done is contacted Ambassador Quinn and arranged official quarters for you on planet," Lynae explains and something that is almost a smile forms on her face. "Though I don't see the CDU leaping to war footing with the Republic right now, but I never take chances especially if there aren't at least two exits and a window to dive through." Return to parent article via http://sw1mush.wikia.com/wiki/Lynae_Cassius